How is it done?
Nobody knows,
Is it fate?
Is it an accident?
Is it permanent?
Is it a figure in the middle of the night?
Or a mathematical process?
that’s the thing;
Nobody knows,
And nobody ever will,
Well not until they die of course…
We can try imagining it,
We can try filming it,
We can study it,
We can even try to re-create it…
But without experiencing it,
We will never know…
So is it a mystery?
Or more?
We wont ever know…
So is this poem pointless?
Is being afraid of death pointless?
Because it’s inevitable…
Should we welcome it with open arms?
Or just ignore it?
Can you even do that?
Nobody knows…
We should ask nobody sometime…